Old friends
by Delsch89
Summary: Garrus goes to chat with Shepard after his recruitment. Just checking on an old friend. Minor spoilers.


_Just a little small thing I wrote on when I started playing a new Shepard. It's pretty much how a conversation between them would go after Garrus' recruitment. Right now it's just a oneshot, don't know how it'll look in the future._

_Again, English is not my native tongue and yeah, slight spoilers naturally._

* * *

_Hoarse breathing. Panicked breaths, trying to sip the smallest amount of air lef__t down into her lungs. Struggling to fix the leaking tube, failing. Around her the remains of the Normandy floats around, before moving rapidly towards the planet below. _

_Everything growing silent and black._

_Everything falling to pieces, coming crashing down._

Two years.

Heh, two years of 'napping' was all it had felt like. Napping away while the Galaxy moved on, pushing aside the Reaper threat.

Treating it like the fantasies of a mentally unstable human.

Nerana Shepard clenched her teeth over the spoon she used to eat her breakfast, consisting of some kind of yoghurt. Tasteless. The chef was right; the military provisions really were horrible. Good thing she had picked up his grocery list because this wasn't something anyone wanted to eat before potentially dying.

She remained clenching on the spoon, her black hair falling down over her forehead and cheeks as she sighed down at the bowl.

Damn the Council to hell. After everything she had done for them, they still saw her as a disaster on the loose. Oh, it had been great when she had taken down Saren because he was the villain with the big V. Heck; they had even believed her Reaper "theory" back then.

Things had actually looked good.

Then of course she had to go and get herself spaced. Killed in action.

It was what Joker had said. She had been the force that kept them all together, that made sure that the Reaper threat was taken seriously… for awhile.

With her gone, it was easy to blame everything on Saren and the Geth alone.

If it wasn't for the fact that the Reapers would kill everyone in the galaxy, she was tempted to leave the Council to rot on some foreign planet along with a reaper. Then that damned Turian Councilor could try and _quote_ his way out of that.

Shepard would almost pay to see that, grinning shamelessly, still with the spoon in her mouth as she lifted a hand to brush away the hair that had fallen down her face, sitting up properly.

Shame she was too much of a goodie-two-shoes to actually leave the Council like that. Still, the image was hilarious.

"Shepard?"

The voice startled her making her gasp of surprise and causing the spoon to fly out of her mouth and land with an elegant splash in the yoghurt, spreading the contents on the table and her chest.

"Oh, sorry," the flanging voice continued, as Garrus walked to the side, grabbing a few napkins from the kitchen counter before returning and handing them to her.

"Didn't expect to startle you though," he said. The Commander wasn't one you easily surprised, she always seemed to keep more eyes and ears around her than her species physically allowed.

"Nah, I was busy imagining gruesome things happening to the Council," Shepard smirked in all honesty, as she dried off the table and the spoon. The spots on her clothes weren't much to do about now anyway. She pushed the napkins to the side before taking one gulp from the yoghurt and then looking curiously at Garrus.

The scarring on his face still looked fresh despite Dr. Chakwas best intentions, but then, it had only been a few days since his right face had been nearly blown up. At least he seemed more spirited than he was the day when she had met him on Omega. More familiar. Right now she liked familiarity. There wasn't much else of it on the ship right now.

"Ah yes, I can see how that meeting would piss you off," Garrus said, doing the closest to a smile that Turian's could muster. It didn't matter really; Shepard could see the smile in his eyes and hear the amusement in his voice.

"So exactly what gruesome things happened to them?" he asked amused, sitting down across her, leaning back in the chair with folded arms.

"A 'reaper' and them on a small, abandoned planet," Shepard grinned, making sure to quote the word reaper with her fingers. "No offence to your species." Garrus laughed; a rare sound from anyone on the ship these days. At least it seemed his injury allowed him the motion this time.

"I'd be happy to punch him, would you just give me the order, Shepard."

"Now that's almost a tempting suggestion."

The woman smiled genuinely, laying her arms on the table, hands on top of each other.

"How are you feeling by the way?" she asked, lifting one hand to casually gesture towards the right side of her own face.

"Just fine, Shepard. It takes more than a missile to knock me out of the game. And I certainly didn't _die_, which is more than I can say about you." There was a pause in which Garrus looked to the side, his mandibles stretching outwards a little.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised about that you're coping so fast. Anyone else would have needed weeks to come to terms with dying and then being brought to life. It has only been around a week for you."

Well, that wasn't entirely true, she thought as she looked back down at the bowl in front of her. She had coped remarkably well considering the situation and it wasn't exactly hanging over her anymore, despite the nightmares that tended to return every night. She had learned long ago to adapt fast to new situations, even as a child, it was all about moving around, adapting to new spaceships and stations.

Of course, Shepard was still coping from it, she just didn't show it. What was the point of showing it? She was gathering a crew of the most dangerous people in the galaxy, strutting around and crying or complaining would gain her about as much respect and shared lifespan as a frightened krogan on Tuchanka.

"I've dealt with a lot of harsh things in my life, Garrus," she said as she looked up again, noticing that he had his eyes fixed on her. "I watched my unit die at Akuze and you know what happened during the chase after Saren. Dying is surprisingly… 'easy' compared to those things. Granted, dying due to lack of oxygen isn't a death I'd wish on anyone but…"

She clasped her hands together in front of the bowl, biting her lip briefly, not really sure what made her speak more about it. Maybe she felt like she owed him a proper explanation. She just didn't know.

"There are worst things than death, Garrus. Take it from someone who has been there. For me it felt like nothing but a few weeks had passed, like I had been sleeping for some time. I'm honestly more disturbed by what have happened to the Galaxy and those I used to know during the two years I was gone. Two years is a long time…"

"It is," Garrus agreed. "It makes sense that you'd find it to be only a few weeks though. I can't imagine the shock upon waking up… with Cerberus and all."

Shepard chuckled bitterly, rubbing the back of her neck as she leant back in the chair. "Yeah, that was one of the bigger shocks indeed. Right now though, I need them. Doesn't mean I trust them. I still remember what they did. I hope you know that."

"I do, and I don't blame you, Shepard. I trust your judgment. You said you were happy to have me along to go into the same hell as you," the Turian grinned amused. "I'm happy to do so. I just hope it's a lot less hot than it's said."

Shepard got up on her feet, tucking away the bowl back at the kitchen counter before heading over to Garrus's side of the table, with her arms folded across her chest.

"Just like old times, Garrus," she nodded, putting her hand on his shoulder, as he got up on his feet as well. "And it starts today. I'd like your company now that we're heading back out to Omega again, if you're healed enough for that?"

"What do you think? Right behind you, Shepard," Garrus grinned amused.


End file.
